Perhaps God is Still With Me
by SpazKit
Summary: Pre-Movie, one shot. A young king, the knights who defend him in battle and their compassion and love that will strenghthen a kingdom for years to come. Godfrey, Baldwin and Tiberias. not slash.


Set pre-movie. Enjoy!

000000000000000000000000000

Oh holy father, I pray you –

Let me get to him in time.

It's such a hard thing to describe, war. Your nerves, so frazzled they're calm and languid with each sweep of sword, the screaming and cries of fighting, clanging, banging, it falls to deaf ears because at some point, you've just stopped hearing things.

Blind luck, it has to be, that I'm not dead. Charging through the carnage, I have to find him, I must find him-

There, up the sands to the right a little. I see his young form, smooth, slim but enough to wear the armor and bear the sword. Blood has stained his royal tunics, his beautiful young face grim with determination. Good lord, he's only… only seventeen. Godfrey is with him, thank God. Back to back, they maintain the offensive. Thank God. It pains me to see him there, courage in the young king's eyes – so like his late fathers…

I finally reach them, chest heaving, sand in my face, my eyes. The din of the roar and the blinding sun makes the sparkle of metal distracting, but I place my back to my newly crowned king and my friend – I will not fail this boy.

Like a charging, massive bull, he comes for us – I brace my stance, a low growl deep in my throat. Saladin is an experienced swordsman. I know what he comes for. And I will not let him have my King.

Godfrey stands tall like some untamed beast, sword held high above his already towering head. We defend side by side, and secretly, I am glad it is he who is beside me. Saladin wears no expression, no malice, only pure attention on the prize that stands behind us. I grit my teeth, sword defensive. For a moment, we stand frozen, like chess pieces, awaiting the first move of the offender. And then, a slash, the curved Muslim blade hissing past my ear. I dodge, bringing my blade to meet him, but Saladin is fast. He attacks like a snake; quick, strong thrusts and I answer as best I can. Between the taller knight and myself, we manage to drive the Muslim back a few paces, and I took a second to praise the lord for that small victory when I saw this look… how can I describe; it was a looks of terrible sadness, but determination, in Saladin's eye –

The viper found me, it seemed, for as we defended against Saladin, out of the corner of my vision, I saw the golds and browns of a Muslim, precious inches away from my King. I spun, slashing out at the offender, and I heard Baldwin gasp. I cut the poor Muslin's neck, biting deep, the spray of blood coating my King. I looked up, into the boy's eyes, and saw pure, unbridled horror. Brow furrowing in confusion, I turned-

A hot flash of gleaming metal, and I felt white fire engulf my vision. And then, it seemed as if I lost the ability to move my limbs, save for the hand I brought to my face, slick heat, and pain – The world tilts, and the horizon turns vertical and I crumble to the ground. What vision I have is tainted red, and I attempt to will my arms, to turn, get up again.

Godfrey roars, and slashes again and again on Saladin, mad with rage. The bright of his sword becomes blurrier and blurrier…

My young king, I have failed you.

The din of battle fades to darkness.

When awareness first began to whisper to me, I fought it. Darkness was pleasant and peaceful, and I wished to remain. It was the gentle pleading of a man whom must have been important to me, that edge, that worry, that pulled me from my revere.

I gasped softly, pain radiating from my head. I clasped the hand holding mine in desperation, God, it hurt-

A cool washcloth was placed upon my brow, and it soothed me. I let out the breath I had been holding, taking in a few gulps of air. I opened my eyes to find the world dark and blurry. A weight rests upon my left shoulder and my body feels heavy. I blink again, trying to clear my vision.

"Hold, Tiberias," the familiar low voice of my friend commands softly. I turn my head and peer up at his hunched form.

"G… Godfr-ey," I rasp brokenly, the word slurred without my consent. The big hand squeezes my own again, and I can now make out a small smile upon his face, but it is odd, my vision… not right.

"Its going to be alright," he soothed, a small breeze from the open balcony ruffling his hair. It was nighttime, and as I gathered my bearings, I discovered we were in the King's chambers-

"T-The king!" I gasped, twitching, shoulders trying to lift themselves from the bed. Godfrey shushed softly, big hands on my chest, pushing me back to the pillows. I shook my head, a moan forming unbidden in my voice.

"Where-"

The big man smiled again, looking to my left. Irritated that it took so much effort to make my neck work, it took me a moment, but I managed to tilt my head to the left. At first I was confused at the mop of dark brown hair beneath my chin, but then a rush of relief coursed through my veins, the best medication a doctor could ever prescribe. The boy's head rested heavily on my shoulder, and I could almost make out his brow eased in sleep upon my chest. Looking downwards, the boy was sprawled out beside me, one tender hand resting limply on the sheets upon my abdomen.

I swallowed thickly.

"He is, he is alright?" I ask, watching Godfrey lifting my hand and setting upon the boy's.

"Yes, thanks to you. And me. And those who fought and died yesterday."

"Y-yesterday?" I breathed, wincing again and the slow and steady throb of my head. Godfrey stood and disappeared from my vision for a moment, then returned with a small glass. He hovered above me, lifting my head slightly and causing an explosion of agony. I moaned again.

"Drink down this tonic," he commanded, and I did, though I barely felt it, so tremendous was the pain. It took a moment before I could open my eyes again. I reached up, touched my face, felt the soft of cloth upon part of it. I vaguely remembered the slash, the pain, the blood –

"The doctors believe that you will not lose vision, but you must let the wound heal first," Godfrey explained, again seated beside me. There was silence for a few moments, and I listened to the swishing of the palm trees outside in the evening breeze. Beside me, Baldwin moaned softly, burrowing closer to my chest and grasping the cloth on my stomach tightly.

"He's been terrified with worry over you, Tiberias," my friend explained softly. "He fell asleep at your bedside earlier this evening, having stayed up all night before during your fever."

"F'ver?" I asked, "How bad?"

Godfrey scratched at his scruffy cheek, a habit denoting when he was concerned.

"Bad. Small infection on the lower cheek, entered the bloodstream. Your pallor didn't do anything to ease the King's fears."

I glanced down again at the boy, and managed to find the strength to lift my left arm, resting it carefully on Baldwin's back.

"But he's alright? What of t' battle?" I inquired, feeling a sudden rush of cool within me, the pain lessening a little.

"We are now at peace. They have left Jerusalem."

Despite it all, a smile curved my lips. The young boy is safe, as was the kingdom. I had not failed his father after all. An almost drunk chuckle escaped me, and I looked to Godfrey with kindness.

"Everything's 'salright," I slurred again, the bed suddenly softer, pulling me against it, the breeze caressing my face and the boy's soft breath on my chest lulling me. Godfrey smiled and chuckled back, and brought a large hand to my exposed shoulder, squeezing softly. I focused on his face for as long as I could before my eyelids were so heavy, I had no choice but to let them fall. The last thing I remember feeling was my head tilting to the side, nose burying itself into the soft of my lord and king's hair, the palm of my friend's hand on my bicep and the soothing knowledge that all was well in my kingdom…

Perhaps God was still with me after all.


End file.
